


Writing Desk

by DrarrySinful



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Humor, M/M, One Shot, Oneshot, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 07:36:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5576932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrarrySinful/pseuds/DrarrySinful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a short Drarry oneshot involving Mr. Binn's classroom and a desk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Writing Desk

Harry groaned and let his forehead hit the desk as Mr. Binns continued to drone on and on and on about the History of Magic. Honestly, it would probably be pretty interesting if Mr. Binns wants so bloody boring.

  
He sat up again when he felt the very sharp elbow, that of course belonged to Hermione, dig into his side. He instead decided to doodle on his desk and pretend he was taking notes. Hermione just rolled her eyes and went back to actually taking notes while Harry doodled.

  
Actually he would doodle on his desk all the time, but ever time he came back to class, his desk had been spelled clean. He thought it was the house elves, but some of the other desks had a bit of graffiti on them, so he did wonder why it was only his desk that was spelled clean every day.

 

* * *

  
The next time he walked into History of Magic and sat down, he was prepared to start doodling on his freshly cleaned desk again, but instead of it being clean, right in the middle of his desk was scrawled in very elegant script, ‘Stop drawing on my desk.’  
Harry snorted and pulled out his wand to spell it clean, earning him an approving glance from Hermione that quickly became a scowl when he dipped his quill in ink and scrawled back to the other mystery owner of the desk, 'It’s my desk too.’

 

* * *

  
'Maybe, but your drawing suck, and so does your hand writing. Haven’t you ever used a quill?’

  
This was the new message on his desk the next time he came in. He knew he probably should be offended by this, but seeing it written in the elegant script of his mystery pen-pal just made him laugh. He spelled the desk clean and then went to reply.

  
'Only for the last 5 years, but yes I have in fact used a quill. Your handwriting is very nice.’

 

* * *

  
After that message, it took a few weeks for his pen-pal to write him back. At first Harry was a bit bummed, but then just thought that the other person was probably shy.

  
This time though when he walked in, he saw on his desk, in that perfect script, the entire alphabet and the message, 'Stop doodling on my desk. Practice your handwriting, it’s still an eyesore. You can use mine for practice.’

  
Harry smiled and sat down, spending the entire class mimicking the alphabet the other had left and writing random nonsense for practice.

 

* * *

  
'Better. I almost don’t want to spell out my eyes every time I look at it now.’

  
Was the, probably, compliment from the other.

  
'Thank you, it’s really helping. I’m sure the professors appreciate it too.’

  
Harry tapped his quill against the desk and decided to change the subject from his horrible-but-improving handwriting.

  
'Hey do you like Quidditch? What’s your favorite team? I like the Bulgarian team, their seeker is pretty cool.’

 

* * *

  
And so it went for a few months, Harry now really looked forward to going to History of Magic, just so he could talk to his pen pal. They talked about just about anything mundane, nothing personal though because they really weren’t the only ones who sat at these desks.

  
He found that he really got along with this person. Whomever it was had a bit of an attitude and was very snarky, but Harry found that it meshed well with his sarcasm and general dry humor. At this point he was almost starting to enjoy sitting and scribbling on his desk more than hanging out with Ron. His handwriting had even improved immensely, it wasn’t the same as the script of his friend, but that was because he had made it his own.

  
There was just one thing that was really bothering him about this whole ordeal, he had no idea who he was talking to. The only thing he (probably) knew was that the other person was a male. Though he only thought that from the nature of conversation.

  
Harry decided he was going to fix that, and break the unwritten “no personal information” rule.

  
'What is your name?’

 

 

* * *

 

It had now, again, been a few weeks and he hadn’t heard anything from his pen pal, even after the few scribbled apologies. The Gryfindor in him was roaring now, he needed to know!

  
He decided, in his amazing scheming brain (that had not yet thought of this) to show up for class extra early, and see if he could catch the person who was at his desk. Of course he had no way of knowing if his mystery friend was in the class just before his, but if it wasn’t him then he would just show up at all the other classes until he figured it out!

  
He wasn’t a stalker, really.

  
Honest.

  
Harry got to the classroom just as all the other students were filing out, and he tried to push his way through the tide to maybe catch the person at his desk. By the time he made it through, however, there was only one other person in the room, staring at his desk with a contemplative look and his wand out.

  
“Malfoy!” He said, shocked and storming forward, “what in Merlin’s name are you doing to my de–”

  
He stopped short when his desk came into view, and the elegant script of his friend was once again on the desk

  
'Draco Malfoy’

  
Malfoy spluttered upon seeing Harry, “Your desk!?”

  
Harry took a deep breath before answering. He hated Malfoy, but he just got on so great with his desk friend! Maybe they were one in the same person, and he and Harry were just not able to get past their first impressions of each other in first year.

  
Malfoy had started to back away when Harry took too long to answer but stopped short when Harry suddenly stuck out his hand.

  
“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Harry Potter.”

  
He stared at Harry’s hand for a couple of minutes, then he grasped it and shook his hand.

  
“Draco Malfoy.”


End file.
